


Far In Time

by soupycide (orphan_account)



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Connor-centric, Depression, Drug Use, Eventual Happy Ending, F/F, M/M, Slow Burn, Soulmate-Identifying Timers, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Therapy, getting better
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:07:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23240701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/soupycide
Summary: Connor didn't feel in control; he felt like a spectator of his own life. It would be over soon, though—no more spectating. No more, Connor Murphy. He cried, crumpling to the floor in a pile of black clothes and frizzy brown hair. Sobs clawed at his throat, bringing more tears to his eyes until he was a shaking mess on the hardwood floors.
Relationships: Alana Beck/Zoe Murphy, Evan Hansen/Connor Murphy
Comments: 5
Kudos: 21





	Far In Time

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is deeply inspired by the song Far In Time by Mother Mother. All chapter titles are lyrics.
> 
> Please comment or leave kudos!

When Connor woke up, he dreaded the day, and  _ that _ wasn’t fucking helping him in any way. "That" referred to the ticking time bomb that society called a "soulmate timer," to him, it's just a huge pain in the ass that resides on his left bony wrist. Making matters even worse, it's his day. Today is the day his timer ends, and he gets a soulmate. All in all, he feels terrible for whoever it is and hopes that they get the right fucking idea and ditch Connor and his fucked up life.

He stared at the ceiling when his mother knocked on the door. "I'm already up!" He yelled, glaring at the door then back at the ceiling. He knew he was going to fuck it up, just like he always did. God, his soulmate, was going to hate him. His soulmate was going to be absolutely horrified; his breaths felt like they were being punched out of him, stomach-churning in a way that made him want to throw up. Shaking, he got out of bed and opened a ziplock bag hidden in his desk. Lighting the blunt as quickly as he could, he smoked out the window. Fuck, it was going to be a rough day.

Taking a quick shower, just to cover up the smell, Connor got dressed in his normal clothes, no need to try and impress his soulmate. He looked in the mirror and touched up his hair to look even messier than it already was, skinny black jeans, scuffed boots, a thin black jacket, and a grey shirt. Perfect. 

Walking downstairs, he felt empty and agitated. Pouring milk in his bowl of cereal, Larry, his father, was already eating. He glanced his oldest child, clearing his throat. "Morning, Connor." He glared at his father, rolling his eyes. "Big day, isn't it, bringing home a lovely girl for us tonight."

"Oh, fuck off." Connor snapped, pouring the rest of the milk into his bowl of cereal. His mother, Cynthia, knocked on Zoe's door upstairs, telling her to get up. He ate his disgustingly sugary cereal that no one else in the house dared to touch in fear of Connor's anger and cavities. "I'm skipping today; I'll go tomorrow."

"It's your senior year, Connor. You are not missing the first day." His mother sighed, pouring herself a cup of coffee, while Zoe joined them at the table.

"I already said I'd go tomorrow." 

"He doesn't listen. Look at him; he's probably high." His father quipped from behind the newspaper.

"He's definitely high." His sister noted making her own cereal.

"Fuck you!" He hissed, laying his head down on the table, it was too early for this shit.

"Fuck you."

His mom's voice raised. "I don't want you going to school high, Connor."

"Perfect, so then I won't go. Thanks, Mom!" Dropping his spoon into the half-filled bowl of cereal, he pushed himself out of his seat angrily. The chair slammed into the table, and his family let him stomp up the stairs into his room. Connor looked at his clock. He had an hour. Pulling a white and blue book from his bookshelf, he laid on the bed, waiting for Zoe to yell at him and hurry up. He read the first sentence at least seven times, and the first paragraph as a whole eight times, he couldn't focus with fear biting at his brain.

"Connor! Hurry up!”

He groaned, passing by the wall mirror on his way down. Internally, he recoiled from his own reflection, hoping his soulmate would do the same at first glance. He swung his bag over his shoulder, pushing past Zoe in the hall.

"Asshole." She mumbled, clutching her shoulder.

"Bitch."

Bolting downstairs and out the door, he ignored his parents and climbed into the car. From underneath his jacket sleeve, his soulmate clock tingled.

"Are you going to be a fucking monster to your own soulmate, too?" Zoe spat starting the car not long after she'd said goodbye to their parents.

"Maybe you should shut the hell up."

"Maybe you shouldn't be such a dick!" She shouted, pulling out of the driveway and into the street. "You smell like weed, by the way." Her anger had a root, Connor wasn't the kindest sibling. He would threaten her, pound on her door screaming obscenities, push her, insult her, he was no angel.

Twenty minutes left.

Staring at his hands, more time passed until Connor spoke up. "Stop the car. I'll walk."

"And let you have a chance to skip school without me knowing for sure? I think not." Zoe sighed, looking at him almost sympathetically. "I know this whole soulmate thing is freaking you out, but don't skip."

He rolled his eyes at her and bit his thumbnail, getting a black nail polish chip in his mouth.

Thankfully she parked near the entrance and unlocked the car. Opening the passenger door, he stepped, closing it harshly.

"Look, Connor-"

"Just fuck off!" His head swung back in her direction, giving her a scowl through a few stray pieces of hair. Stalking his way into the building, only a couple of kids were there. After entering the same combination from last year, he yanked open the locker.

Ten minutes.

The hall started to bustle, no one talking to him by the wall. And then there was a voice.

"Hey Connor, lovin' the new hair length, very school shooter chic." Fucking Jared Kleinman.

Connor glared at him, unnervingly silent. Gripping the strap of his bag, he clenches his other fist, ready to sock him.

"It's - it's funny, it's a joke."

"Yeah, I know it was funny. I'm laughing, can't you tell?" 

Jared took a step back.

"I'm sorry, am I not laughing hard enough for you?" Connor shouted, earning a few uncomfortable looks from his peers; part of him wanted to crawl into a hole. The other part just wanted to punch the shit out of this asshole.

"What the hell!" Jared stumbled away. Behind him stood Evan Hansen, the quietest kid at school. With his striped shirts and constantly flushed freckled cheeks, he didn't always blend in, especially now. Maybe he was going to say something Connor couldn't tell. Evan stuttered.

"What are you looking at? You're a fucking freak!" Pushing Evan to the floor, he flinched. His wrist stung. His head hurt. This couldn't be happening. Thoughts flooded through his head, bouncing back and forth, creating a chaotic symphony of fear and panic. He felt like he was drowning. Shoving his sleeve down, he stared at the clock. He looked behind him to see Zoe help Evan up. Sprinting out the building, he left campus, tearing himself apart.

He'd just hurt his soulmate.

"Fuck!" Connor screamed, punching the tree on the far end of the baseball field. That hurt. "Fuck, fuck, fucking shit! Fuck!" He slammed his fist into the bark, tearing the skin of his knuckles. Clutching the sides of his head Connor trembled. He was right. He had fucked it up. Falling to his knees, the usually stoic teen sobbed, leaning his head on the tree trunk. He'd just isolated himself forever. No friends. No family. No soulmate. The last person that could have learned to like him, gone. He was just a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Off in the distance, the first bell for class rang, leaving the air silent. His hand throbbed in pain. "Dammit..." Connor whispered to no one. The early morning breeze swept through his hair, drying the tear tracks on his face. This wasn't fair. He felt...drained, like the emotions that had been churning inside him vanished, leaving him with nothing there. Empty. 

"Connor?" A timid voice came from behind him. The same one that stuttered in his English class last year. "I...I think you're my soulmate." If the wind were blowing any harder, Connor might have missed what Evan said next. "Please...please tell me if-if I'm bothering you."

Fear hit Connor like a train, here he was, sobbing against a tree, back facing his soulmate. "Fuck off." Regret clutched his heart, deepening the pain and panic in his chest.

"I'm sorry for bothering you." Evan wheezed, the grass rustling under his feet as left Connor, alone.

He wanted to scream, but nothing came out. The numbness of Connor's own thoughts held him still. Words floated around in his head, echoed insults. As much as they hurt, they weren't wrong. He was a freak. He was worthless. He was a burden. He was weak. He was pathetic. He was nothing; everyone would be better off without him. He should just…

Die.

Whatever self-preservation he had left kicked in, terrifying him. Alarms in his head rang out, telling him to run away from the danger. Only he couldn't. If Connor had ever wanted to jump out of his body, it was now. He ran off-campus, jumping the chain link fence in a heartbeat. Mondays, he recalled, his mom had yoga at nine in the morning, giving him most of the morning alone. Connor put up his hood, trudging home.

Halfway his phone buzzed. Zoe. He answered it. "What?"

"Are you fucking kidding me, Connor? What do you mean 'what?' you know exactly why I'm calling!" Great, angry Zoe. The biggest pain in the ass on planet earth.

"Leave me alone, Zoe."

"When I asked if you were going to be a fucking monster to your soulmate, I didn't expect you to take that as a challenge!"

"I know!" Connor cried out. "Fuck...I-I know."

"A-are you crying?" She questioned, hostility leaving her tone. "Connor, where are y-"

He hung up, frozen to the pavement. Connor's eyes closed shut as he struggled to grasp onto reality. No more of...him.

He couldn't take it anymore. No more living. No more Zoe. No more hurting people.

With that, he sprinted home, boots smacking against the sidewalk in heavy frantic steps. Connor's lungs struggled for air until he got to the front lawn, collapsing on the dam grass. He closed his eyes, taking in the warmth of the sun and chill dew of the lawn. He would never feel this again. Lifting himself up off the ground, the sickening numbness returned.

Unlocking the front door, he walked into the empty, silent Murphy house. This is why he ditched school, for silence and solidarity. Shutting the oak door behind him, Connor took a deep breath. Walking upstairs, the spiral staircase creaked under him. He turned down the hallway, eyes avoiding Zoe's dented door. Even the thought opened way for guilt and shame, something he didn't want right now.

He sat at his desk, pulling out his laptop and going into Google Docs.

_ Dear mom and dad, I _

No. They didn't deserve a damn letter.

_ Zoe, I'm sorry _

Sorry? He frowned, staring at the screen. Sorry for screaming at her, threatening her, pushing her, throwing things at her? He was no better than his dad, Fucking Larry. Fists clenched, he gritted his teeth.

Connor slammed the laptop shut, running a hand through his hair. He hands nothing to say. Falling onto his bed, Connor curled into himself. As much as he wanted to cry, there was nothing left to cry about; it was over.

✿ ✿ ✿

Connor's eyes fluttered open to his mom at the doorway, calling his name. Rolling over to face her, he gave an indistinct mumble.

"Why aren't you at school?" She asked, sitting on the bed, cautiously.

"I didn't want to be there; I told you that this morning."

Cynthia gingerly ran her fingers through his hair, waiting for protest from her son. "Okay," pursing her lips; she dared to question his compliancy, "you're not going to tell me to stop?"

Connor shook his head, closing his eyes again. Her hands glided through the knots and ratted ends, smoothing out the frizzy mess. Maybe things would be okay, maybe-

"Did you meet your soulmate?"

He flinched.

"We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." Leaning forward, she kissed his temple nervously. "I don't know what's wrong, but it's gonna be okay." She sounded close to tears as her hand left his hair. A weight lifted from the bed, and her voice drifted from further away. "Come downstairs if you want tea."

Connor opened his eyes, letting tears fall onto his bedsheets. Using every bit of energy he had, he left the bed and walked down and into the kitchen. A brown mug of tea sat on the counter, waiting for him. Looking at the open backyard door, he could hear his mom and some friends chatting. Like normal, not fucked up people. Taking the mug upstairs, he went back on his computer to log into Tumblr.

Selecting the inbox, he read each question.

He couldn't do it, not today. How disgustingly hypocritical would it be to talk someone down from suicide when he was preparing for his own grand exit off of planet earth. Closing the laptop again, he picked up his favorite book, Breakfast of Champions, and started it over for the seventh time. Not even two pages in his phone buzzed, reaching over he saw it was an unknown number. Picking it up, he realized he had nothing to lose. "What?"

"...Con-Connor? Zoe said you left school, are you okay...wait that-that's a dumb question. Sor-"

There was no way in hell; he was going to deal with his soulmate. His phone rang again, this time it was Zoe.

"Con-"

"I said, fuck off." This time he shut off his phone, leaving it face down next to his book. He chugged the burning mug of tea, scalding his throat. He felt irritated. "Mom, I'm leaving!" Connor called downstairs.

"Are you going back to school? It's only two more classes."

Walking into the living room, he silently ran the idea over in his head. He should clear out his locker. "Yeah, sure."

"I'll drive you!"

"I'm fine...okay?' Connor snapped, watching his mother wilt. Dammit. "Sorry." Yanking the front door open, he rushed out onto the sidewalk.

✿ ✿ ✿

Pulling the lock off his locker, Connor checked his surroundings. He was alone. A piece of paper fluttered out of the locker, landing at his feet. Plucking it from the ground with his slender hands, he opened it.

Connor crushed the letter in his hand, letting it drop to the floor and flatten under his boot. Not today. It's not like Evan really cared anyway, he had to care. Connor was his soulmate; he was obligated to give a fuck. Who would willingly care about him, the long-haired dirty stoner with no future? Connor barely even knew Evan. All he could remember were bits and pieces from their English class last year, and maybe before.

Here is what Connor did know: Evan Hansen obviously had anxiety, he rambled, wore a variation of the same goddamn outfit every day, and he had an asshole friend-Jared Kleinman. Not much to go on, but it didn't matter at this point...did it?

Most people would say Connor's locker was filled with trash, he would agree. But inside were poems and unfinished sketches he'd never quite gotten around to letting go. Grabbing a handful of papers, he crossed the hall, dumping them in the trash. The papers reminded him of a cocoon, slowly shedding himself of the torment his own brain created. Maybe cocoon wasn't right; after all, that would imply rebirth. There would be no rebirth for Connor Murphy.

"What...what are you d-doing?" Of course, Evan walked out of a classroom, now staring at Connor.

"Throwing things away."

"...why?"

He gave his best  _ are you stupid  _ look to the shorter boy. "Because it's messy." Well, that was a big fucking lie.

"Oh..."

"Yeah." Dumping another handful into the trash, Connor felt Evan's eyes on him. "What the fuck do you want, Hansen?"

Evan's fingers fiddled with the thinning hem of his blue striped polo. Now Connor could add three more things to his list. Evan bit his nails, tore holes in his shirts because he picked at the fabric, and he had freckles that littered his arms.

"Earth to Evan." Connor snapped his fingers, catching Evan's attention.

"S-sorry."

"Yeah, sure."

"Didn't you...le-leave school?" The dirty blond asked hesitantly.

"Yes."

"Why did-did you come back?"

"Not for you, if that's what you're asking." That was the wrong thing to say. Connor's soulmate, no, just Evan flinched, taking a step back. Shit. "Unfinished business." That was also the wrong thing to say, Connor cringed at his own word choice.

"Wait-what? What do you mean by 'unfinished business'?"

Silently Connor picked up more loose papers, going back and forth between the locker and trash can.

"Connor?"

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Connor sneered, slamming the door shut. "Because I need to leave, and I can't have you sniveling behind me all damn day." Leaving Evan alone, he walked into the office.

"Name?" The office lady asked, she was maybe in her early thirties and too perky to be considered a human.

"Murphy, Connor."

She licked the pad of her pointer finger, flipping through a stack of schedules “Of course, here you are!"

Taking the half sheet of paper, he frowned—study hall in the library. The library was a separate building just next to the office, and there was no harm in waiting outside for ten minutes. Sitting on the ground, he sighed, yet again he was alone. Connor closed his eyes, fingers running over the rough concrete, letting them go red and raw.

"Mr. Murphy?"

Oh Jesus fucking Christ what else. Lifting his head Mrs. Rosenfield, his counselor, stood in front of him. A sad smile graced her lips. She was the reason he was alive. She was the reason every suicide note went unfinished, well until now that is. "How was your summer?"

"Good. Yeah, it was fine." He lied.

"Let's go to my office." She waited for him to move off the ground. He stared at his shoes. "Connor."

"No."

"What?"

"No. Just fuck off." No one would save him. "I'm not some fucking charity case, okay?" Connor scrambled to his feet, glaring her down. She looked taken aback, stumbling a couple of steps back. "See, everyone's scared of me, even you!"

Her warm brown eyes widened. "No, no, you just surprised me." Her small deep olive-toned hand touched his arm.

"Don't fucking touch me!" His voice boomed, shoving her arm away.

"I'm sorry." Mrs. Rosenfield whispered softly. "Connor, I need you to come to my office." She swallowed audibly. "Please."

"I said no."

"Connor, please. I can h-"

"You can't fucking help me? No one can help me!"

"Maybe we can talk to your par-"

"Shut the fuck up, Mrs. Rosenfield or I swear to god I will..." He stopped. He'll do what? Kill himself? "I'm going home."

"Connor!" She called after him. "Connor Murphy, get back here!"

He flipped her off, turning at the corner of the building. Connor felt his pocket for his phone and groaned. He left it on his desk. So he walked home again. Alone.

✿ ✿ ✿

"Connor!" Cynthia exclaimed when he opened the front door. Oh great. "I got a call from the school...did you really yell at your counselor?"

"Yes." He deadpanned, walking upstairs.

"Can we talk about it?"

Connor sighed. "Fuck, mom, I just wanna be alone." Slamming his bedroom door shut, he restarted his phone. Seven missed calls and five missed voicemails from Zoe. Speaking of which, she would be home soon. In the meantime, he needed to feel something, anything. Connor rummaged through his nightstand drawer, taking out a blunt that had been taped to the side. It was something; it had to help. I always helped...usually. His door flew open.

"You're such an asshole! What the fuck is wrong with you!" Zoe yelled, glaring at her brother. Her green eyes fell on the joint. "Of course." She took a step forward, picking it out of his hand. "You think  _ this  _ is going to solve anything?"

"Give it back, Zoe."

"Why? So you can get high and escape the shit you created?"

"Give it back." Connor gritted his teeth in anger.

"What are you going to do, huh? Push me like how you always do? Like how you pushed your own soulmate? I even tried to help you, but all you keep doing is pushing me away!" She scowled, taking a step out of his room. "You don't deserve Evan."

He shoved her. Dropping the joint, she sprinted into her room, locking the door behind her. She was saying something that he couldn't hear over the rushing in his ears. Fists pounding against her door in sharp bangs, sending waves of pain through his arms. Cynthia ran upstairs to see her son screaming bloody murder.

"Connor!"

Arms wrapped around his waist, trying to pull him off the door. Connor didn't feel in control; he felt like a spectator of his own life. It would be over soon, though—no more spectating. No more, Connor Murphy. The thought of dying was enough to paralyze anyone. "I'm gonna fucking kill you!" He sobbed, crumpling to the floor in a pile of black clothes and frizzy brown hair. Sobs clawed at his throat, bringing more tears to his eyes until he was a shaking mess on the hardwood floors.

A gentle hand pressed against his back, rubbing circles into his spine. "Connor, honey, come back to us." Cynthia cooed.

"I just want it all to stop!" Connor wailed, yanking at his hair.

His mom cried, hugging him to her chest. "No, no, don't say that..."

"Everyone would be bet-better off without me!"

"That's not true; I'd be miserable." Hot tears dripped down her pale face.

"I'm just a burden..."

Zoe stared at her brother's broken frame; tears were stinging her eyes as she watched her mother console the brother she once knew.

"Connor, stop, don't say that..."

"You-you were right.  _ I am a monster _ ." Connor whispered into his mom's shoulder, eyes devoid of any emotion. "I jus-just wanna sleep..."

"Let's take you to your room." Cynthia took him by the arm, helping him stumble into his gray and yellow room. "Lay down; I'll get you before dinner."

Yellow. That used to be his favorite color. Bright. Cheery


End file.
